


Great Expectations

by NiwaEngland



Category: Fright Night (2011), Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Humor, Courting Rituals, Human/Vampire Relationship, Las Vegas, M/M, Misunderstandings, Peter Vincent can't cope, Swearing, The hunt is on, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Vampire vs Vampire Hunter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:55:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23289607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiwaEngland/pseuds/NiwaEngland
Summary: "Why haven't you ever tried to kill me?"That was the question.The start of the shit show.
Relationships: Aro (Twilight)/Peter Vincent
Comments: 12
Kudos: 66





	1. The Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this isn't the biggest fandom out there so be sure to give a kudos/comment if you do enjoy the ride. Also check out my other mad indulgence fic (if you haven't already) Shining, Shimmering, Stupid.
> 
> Stay safe, stay inside and take care.

"Why haven't you ever tried to kill me?"

That was the question.

The start of the shit show.

But when Peter Vincent asked it the question came out of the blue. True, he'd been thinking about it. In fact, he'd been borderline obsessing since the night they met. But he had _never_ asked.  
  
"No seriously," he glared at his intruder. "Why haven't you?"  
  
The vampire blinked, "why would I?"  
  
Sitting on Peter's plush sofa Aro Volturi smiled as if he was at home. Not gatecrashing a quiet night in. "There is no need."  
  
"So you're that fucking confident that you'd win?" Peter challenged, swigging down a generous amount of alcohol. Slamming the bottle down with a resounding bang. "That's it then? I'm not a real threat to you?"   
  
The whole situation was a shit show, mostly because it didn't make a damn bit of sense.   
  
"This isn't normal. You know that right?"  
  
Normal was fear, frustration, loneliness and sleepless nights. His hunting a desperate, drunken struggle for survival. "Vampires and vampire hunters don't just hang out."  
  
Aro's red eyes narrowed, "you are troubled by our acquaintance?"  
  
A loud almost hysterical laugh bounced off the walls, "I don't know what you're doing here! What it is that you want from me?"  
  
Aro understood, somewhere in the quietest part of his mind. It was to be expected.  
"You believe that I am here to harm you."  
  
Peter hated how his subconscious readily agreed. So instead of voicing the thought, he growled.  
"Don't be so sure of yourself. I'm not just going to fall at your feet. I'm a fucking star, I'm a vampire hunter!"  
  
"Peter," a smile plastered itself onto Aro's ethereal face. "I would have you on your knees." Aro rose from the sofa. "Here." He took a step forward, "there." Then another, "how wonderful you would look bowed before me in the council chambers."

Peter sucked in a breath. Fingers twitching towards the nearest sharp thing. "Don't come any closer!" He wished so deeply that he'd been better prepared. Dressed in more than boxer shorts and his silk dressing gown. Peter threw out his hand, his eyes wide.

"Do not assume that I would take what you were unwilling to give." Aro stopped, his cape curling around him. "You need not make yourself a sacrifice."  
  
"Get out of my life!" Peter spat, nerves firing off in every direction. "Do you even hear yourself? It's crazy! Saying shit like that. You're a Volturi! For fuck's sake." He waved his hands around and around to prove his point. "You tell other vampires what to do. You kill anyone who gets in the way."  
  
Eyeing the bar behind him Peter considered jumping over it to get away. To put something solid between them. If an attack was coming it would be now.  
  
Thoughtfully tilting his head Aro took his time with his next words. "I see that there is an... expectation to be met."

The vampire elder smoothed out invisible creases in his clothes. Resigning himself to the situation.  
"You are not conventional, I should not have tried to court you in such a way."

Peter paled, so he hadn't misread all those lingering looks. The comments that were hard to explain.

"A hunt stands between us. Stagnant and demanding. An answer to an age-old question awaits." Aro's red eyes met Peter's horrified dark brown gaze. "I wonder. Who would be victorious?"  
  
Something itched beneath the hunter's skin. "It doesn't matter!"  
  
The vampire clapped his hands together, not making a sound. "It's settled. Tomorrow night we hunt."  
  
"Tomorrow night? I have a show at nine!"  
  
"This is a wonderful way to court you. I shall prove myself."   
  
Peter felt his insides twist together. "No. That's really not necessary-"  
  
Aro was already ten steps ahead. "I'll have to surprise you." He turned towards Peter again, eyes practically glowing with excitement. "I have so many ideas."

"Flowers!" Peter shouted, not really knowing what the hell he was saying. "Flowers would be fine."

"No, no. This is better. My baser instincts demand this too. It's truly a splendid idea."  
  
Stumbling to support himself on the counter Peter shook his head. Too many things were happening and he was teetering on the edge of an anxiety attack. "This is out of control!"  
  
"I have to prepare."  
  
"Can you not hear me?"  
  
"The first to draw blood will be deemed the winner."  
  
Well, that just seemed like a bad idea. Like throwing chum into shark-infested waters. Aro was not the only vampire in Vegas. If word got out that a Volturi was hunting him the undead would come from miles around to witness his demise.  
  
"Listen, just- just rewind. Forget that I said anything. It's not happening."

Peter pressed his glass tumbler to his eyes. The coldness from the ice within was somewhat soothing. Just a touch too cold. "This is a nightmare and in a minute I'm going to wake up."  
  
His hand practically crushed the glass as suddenly the vampire appeared before him. Looming large and leaning closer to muse. Peter bent over backwards at a horrible angle to avoid being touched. Trapped between the counter and an ancient lunatic. 

"I have not felt this alive in ages." Aro meant that quite literally. "How is it that you hold such power over me?"

He would have taken Peter's hand and kissed it. But his human resisted, bending further back and holding his arms in a vice-like death grip against his own body. Those clever brown eyes cleary debating the merits of hitting him with a big bottle of booze. 

Aro smiled. "Enchanting. As always Peter."  
  
Swallowing hard Peter tried to speak, to stop what was about to happen. Frozen as a cold finger pressed against his lips. Tracing them ever so slightly.  
  
"To the victor the go the spoils."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised. 
> 
> The hunt is on 🕇

This was a bad idea. It wasn't even his idea. Well, maybe it was in a really fucked up, unintentional kind of way. How was Peter supposed to know that this was going to happen? He should have just left the mad vampire bastard to his own devices. Coming over unannounced and lingering like a rude ghost. Not offering any explanation as to why.

Peter had contemplated just staying in. He'd done his show, he played the part to a cheering crowd. There hadn't been enough time to get ready. A quick wash down, throwing on an old band t-shirt and faded jeans. The boots and the long flowing coat were from the show, comfortable and incredibly stylish. There was no time to get drunk enough to want to do this. As he exited his apartment Peter even eyed his panic room and thought about emptying his bar and locking himself in for the night. 

Perhaps have a good cry and finish it off by slipping into a short stress dream. But no. The panic room would not be Volturi proof. The very last thing Peter needed was another home invasion. 

Walking down the long streets just a stone's throw away from the busy boulevard Peter kept a steady pace. If he hid the vampire would find him if he cut his ties and ran Aro would follow. They always did. Charlie could theorise all he wanted. It was never a coincidence that Jerry Dandrige had come to town. 

Walking through the tall iron gates into the park Peter took one last look at the bright lights of the Vegas strip. Ahead was only a scattering of old fashion lamposts. The kind that lamplighters would have had to go around lighting when the nights came creeping in. They were electric of course, fake for the sake of romanticism. But compared to the luminous lights of Vegas the park looked natural, it was dark. 

Peter had hunted here before but this was different. Something had drawn him here. An instinct. As he entered he'd felt the cold prickle of warning, the hair raising sensation of being watched. The park was the starting point, God only knew where the endpoint was. A ditch? The other side of the city? Or perhaps a dark and scary castle from which there was no escape. 

As minutes went by Peter approached the playground and froze. Spotting the leader of the Volturi just standing casually beneath a lampost. So clearly visible in the light.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Peter whispered to himself. Starting to wonder if the whole thing was off. Just a bit of a wind up after all. But no. The light sputtered out and when it came on again the vampire was gone. 

The game was on. 

Peter spun around on the spot, patting at the weapons inside his long coat for reassurance. He felt a slight disturbance in the air behind him and slammed down hard and fast to his knees. Rolling back before barging up with brute force and striking momentum.   
  
Almost laughing at the genuine spark of surprise upon the vampire's face Peter pulled free a stake and thrust it forward. It stopped suddenly, a fraction of a fucking inch above the monster's heart. Aro's hands held the shaking stake firmly in place, still surprised and oh so very impressed. Peter Vincent was everything he ever wanted and now he was everything he needed. 

Peter tsked, furiously trying to force the stake forward. His shoes scuffing the ground from the effort. But without the element of surprise, it was hopeless. Peter bit off a cry as the vampire's cold hands slid up to his, forcing his wrists together and then upwards. Peter lifted off the ground. Clutching his stake for dear life because he could do little else. Peter didn't have time to think as he was flung across the sky. Crashing too hard to the ground and tumbling too fast into the toddler's soft play area. 

Rolling to his feet Peter panted, forcing himself to breathe. Relying on adrenalin to keep him going. Blocking out the aches and pains that would slow him down. He saw a flash of movement in the treeline. Almost impossible to see away from the littering of lights. But after years of performing on stage, blinded by bright beaming lights and then the total darkness of backstage Peter had adapted. He could see. He charged after it, taking his chance to surprise the cocky bastard again. 

Throwing himself behind a tree Peter steadied another stake in his hand. Swinging around he thrust the stake forward, startling a fox. It screamed, he almost screamed. Instead, Peter stumbled back, hit his tree and laughed. The fox darted off and Peter would have continued to laugh if he hadn't been so completely pissed off. 

"Fucking fox! Don't you dare circle around!"

He didn't want to mistake it again. 

Flickering lights drew Peter's attention back to the playground. One by one the lamplights blinked out. As if the darkness there breathed. Peter pushed forward, maybe it wasn't wise but he peered perceptibly into the dark. The vampire didn't have as much advantage as he thought and Peter could use that. So plastering on his best bitch face Peter marched into the night. Letting his left hand reach out, as if he really couldn't see a single thing.

In reality, he could make out shapes and space, not overly well but enough. He pretended to be blind, knowing that he looked a fool. That he looked vulnerable and that was the lure. 

"Come and get me." Peter pronounced, twisting around in the dark. Deliberately marching towards an apparatus to fall over. Some kind of springy pink elephant. A sudden stench filled the air. Something had died and it was rotting nearby.  
  
"Well, come and fucking get me!" Peter shouted, pretending to stub his foot and throwing his stake away to save his face from hitting the floor. He felt a presence behind him again and grinned. Predictable. With the swiftness of a magician, Peter produced the blessed stake of St Micheal from his sleeve. The best in his collection. Without hesitation, he swung up and stabbed it into flesh.

"First blood!" He cheered, jumping back. The stake stayed where it was. 

"I win. It's over! It's done." With no reply, Peter stopped congratulating himself. He'd been wiping the sweat away from his face. As his arm fell his stomach dropped. 

It was not Aro Volturi. 

"A fucking Revenant." He turned to glare at the night. "Really!?!"

Revenants were not vampires. Just an animated, decaying corpse that failed to transition into the true death. The creature seemed confused, it's jaw hanging down and drooling. It's boney fingers picking at the stake embedded in its abdomen. With sunken eyes, one hanging down from its socket the Revenant looked at Peter. The stench of rotting flesh from earlier made sense and Peter couldn't help but gag. It was quicker than it looked, the Revenant lunged wildly at him. 

Thank Christ for that pink elephant!  
  
The Revenant took a tumble over it and missed Peter by an inch. Peter scrambled aside on his hands and knees, putting a child's swing set between them. Rather than walk around the swing the Revenant staggered and started to tear at the frame. Peter panicked, he delt primary with vampires. Revenants were the stuff of nightmares and something that should not be in a public park. Just dripping with disease and decay. 

It shoved metal aside to bite at Peter. Reaching for another stake Peter held his breath as he met the Revenant's lunge head-on. Arching up beneath the thing Peter twisted his embedded stake into its heart. Hearing the horrible pop as the sharp edge did its duty. Collapsing back Peter pulled himself around the swing to get clear. The creature screeched out an angry wail and collapsed into itself, falling to the ground in a broken heap. 

Peter pushed up onto his knees, fumbling for a lighter. He had to burn it. To get St Micheal's stake back. He had to hurry-

"That was exciting." A hand landed on his shoulder. "But you shouldn't get distracted."

Oh God, he was going to die in the soft play area after all. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to julielilac on tumblr. Who creates the most wonderful and entertaining gifs. 
> 
> I hope you've all enjoyed this madness. But now the show must go on it's time to face the final curtain.

The hand moved, sliding up from his shoulder to his collar. It gripped, it pulled and the world lurched violently. Expecting to be flung Peter braced, he never left the ground but the sensation was the same.

He was being _dragged._

Backwards. Through the fucking park. 

Peter flailed with outrage. Stumbling and utterly unable to get his feet under him. The speed they moved was designed to trip him up. If it wasn't for his leather coat or his sexy but enduring boots Peter's skin would have had more than scrapes and scratches.

"Uh hello! Are you fucking insane!?!" Peter managed to curse, swiping at the vampire and twisting for another try. Hitting at Aro Volturi with only his bare hands was not the best or brightest idea. It was like attacking stone. But fear and pride drove Peter on. Because it was bullshit. 

Finally, his release came, at the price of being turned and pitched forward, slamming flat into a hard, unyielding surface. Forcing his hands against the brickwork of a barrier wall Peter pushed off and turned. Grabbing his at his dwindling weaponry, he brandished a simple stake. No whistles, no bells, no sainted rituals. Just plain, pointy wood.

His last hope.

Aro stood a few feet away. Standing serenely in the middle of a flower bed. The day gardener was going to go pitch a fit. Lights flashed, reflected and moved in Aro's bright eyes, something so striking about the shade of red. Something so dangerous dancing there.

Peter pressed himself back against the wall, breathing hard. Knowing that he looked like forbidden fruit. Or chocolate, the creamy, swirly kind.

He gulped. The floral scent of a hundred flowers filled his nose and God damn the universe -  
  
Peter sneezed.

That was it.

In the few distracted seconds where his body convulsed Peter shut his eyes. The sneeze had barely finished when the vampire slammed into him. Snatching his right wrist and jerking hard enough to snap it.

"Fucking hell!" Peter hissed, releasing the stake to avoid a bone break. "I thought this was make-believe!"  
  
He stilled as he caught the rapt attention of blood-red eyes. There was that light again, almost... hypnotic. Peter's mind _blanked_. His body felt incredibly heavy. As if he hadn't slept a wink in weeks. At that moment the only thing holding him up was the leader of the Volturi.

Distracted and drifting Peter barely heard the ominous sound of his stake clattering against the wall and disappearing into the dirt.

"You wanted flowers, did you not?"

Peter blinked because he couldn't remember how to speak. Words were beyond him. 

"And yet you say that I do not listen," Aro smiled. Tilting his head in a familiar fashion. Obviously pleased with himself. He manoeuvered Peter into a better position. Not minding that the hunter's knees buckled at an awkward angle. Aro arranged lifeless limbs as one would pose a rag doll. He basked beautifully in the moment, satisfied as Peter's head dropped heavily to his shoulder.

"Are you satisfied? Are the rumours you hear whispered throughout the dregs of my society all that you hoped for?"

The questions were distant to Peter, darkness was pulling at the far edges of his vision.

It wouldn't be the worst way to die. To go so quietly. To just... slip away. 

As Aro's cold fingertips against his own Peter felt a presence in his mind. The darkness ripped away as outrage burned bright. The vampire was reading him. Like a bloody book, watching his life as if it were up on the silver screen.

_"No."_

It was quiet, not much above a whisper.

Aro stilled. Ghosting his fingers through Peter's wild hair. Humming.

He pulled back a tad to peer at Peter. He didn't expect the sudden headbutt that cracked across his nose. It wasn't enough to make him let go but Aro lost focus and the connection was cut. 

Peter thumped his head back against the brick wall, arching up to breathe. 

"Stay the fuck out of my mind."

The fog had cleared and Peter glared with dark distrustful eyes. "I don't know what rumours _you've_ been hearing but I'm not that fucking easy. Not in a million years!"

He fell forward before the momentum of Aro's hands dragged him straight through the dirt. The direction changed and Peter cried out as he was slammed back into the brick wall. A cold hand curled its way around his throat. It squeezed at his windpipe experimentally. "You were almost completely under, you're heartbeat was slow."

Peter almost said his heart didn't know what the hell it was doing. Or that after his family died it had become tattered, ugly and ruined. Only taken out on special occasions for very special people. Charlie and Amy had touched his heart. Through goodness, patience and persistence. Virtues that a vampire could not possibly possess. 

Instead of words, Peter punched and kicked. Determined not to get pinned again. Firm fingers tangled in his hair and jerked his head to the side. No matter how hard he shoved or pulled Peter couldn't force distance. He wasn't strong enough, nobody would be strong enough. Panic was pressing in. Peter bit down hard on his bottom lip, to ground himself and to stop a scream from escaping. 

"You are glorious." 

Peter could hardly hear over his own hammering heartbeat. The cold fingers around his throat tightened. Peter coughed, rasping between half stolen breaths. "S-Stop!"

The pressure eased.

A brief sensation of utter relief flooded Peter's brain. Replaced with icy dread as sharp teeth pressed against his exposed throat. He wanted to scream. It wasn't a game, it was real. Way too fucking real.

Peter thrashed wildly. Bucking and twisting. Hurting himself in the effort to get free.

The world spun again. Peter hit the flowerbed first, followed by Aro who immediately pinned him down. A cat who was about the get the cream. 

The sweet scent of crushed flowers filled the air. Writhing against the dirt hurt a damn sight less than brick. But it also offered little to no purchase. Nothing to work with.

"It is like one of your night terrors?" Aro asked easily. Catching Peter's right wrist. "The ones you hide, the ones you feel compelled to find and face to make amends for the past?"

"This," Peter hissed. Still struggling for all he was worth. "Is not a therapy session." Attempting not to freak out Peter tried to relax. Defaulting to haughty sarcasm.

"You're not passing me pills or trying to take my money, only my life. Which is probably worth _less._ "

Aro ignored the jibe, "death is simple but it solves nothing. Dear thing, endure eternity then we can talk."

"Eternity? What in the hell is that-" Peter stilled, his eyes wide, his jaw slack. "No..."

Aro stroked his face softly. Smiling down. "Perhaps."

"No!" Peter freaked. True terror struck him tenfold. "You can't- I can't! No. Don't do it. Anything else, fucking drain me dry for all I care," Peter prattled. Unable to accept the idea that he was about to be turned. To become the thing he feared his whole life. Flashes of his family filled his mind. Then he thought about what had almost happened to him in Jerry's home. When Charlie was locked in with Amy. When he was alone with Jerry Dandridge. Before he was used as a fucking blood bag to discard or turn.

"Bite me, fuck me, kill me. Do whatever you want but don't fucking turn me." Peter blinked back tears, desperate. His eyeliner was smudged and his auburn hair stuck up at awkward angles. His band t-shirt was ruined and his coat was twisted tight. He was on the verge of a complete mental breakdown.  
  
"I don't want this."

Aro's fingers were firm on Peter's throbbing wrist. He could smell the blood pumping so close to the surface of Peter's skin. One bite and the dam would burst. Peter Vincent's renowned blood would go absolutely everywhere. It was a very real temptation.  
  
"My will is not easily changed."

Peter cringed, " _please-_ " Aro's hand pressed over his mouth. Peter screamed, trying desperately to dislodge it. Instead, that hand forced his head to the side, exposing his throat.

"Pay no attention to the pain," Aro mumbled. So intensely focused. His eyes wide and filled with unnatural light. Peter felt the hot trail of tears down his cheeks. Feeling like a butterfly trapped beneath a collectors hands. About to have his wings broken and his body displayed behind glass for all to see.

He hit, pounded and punched. His free hand in agony from the effort. Furious, frustrated and overwhelmed. Exhausted and tenser than he had ever been Peter shut his eyes and waited for the pain. It came but not as expected.

Peter's eyes popped open as a sharp fingernail slashed across the palm of his right hand.

It stung, it bled. 

Then it was over.

Aro was no longer holding him down but still hovering above him. Still sitting on him still. Holding his marginally injured hand gently. Pressing it into the material of a finely tailored coat. Warding off further temptation.

"It will only bleed for a few moments more."

Peter was bemused. "That's it?"

"That's it," the vampire smiled. "That wasn't so bad now was it dear?"

"That's it!?!" Peter repeated. In a short series of shouts. "You scared the living shit out of me. You watched that thing try to kill me. Aro! Are you fucking serious!?!"

Smiling widely Aro preened as Peter used his name. "That creature was not my doing, it was just there and you were wonderful to watch. I did not wish to interfere." 

"You dragged me through the fucking park!"

"I have a flair for the dramatic."

"You turned out the lights!"

The vampire chuckled.  
  
"I thought you were going to kill me!"  
  
"Whatever gave you that impression?"

Peter made a wild gesture with his free hand, his mouth moved with no words. 

Merciful and amused, Aro took the lead. "You were never in danger. I am old enough to quell any such urges as they arise. I was, however, very aware of the desire and bloodlust directed towards me."

Peter blushed red to the tips of his ears. "Are you actually accusing me of getting carried away?"

"Marginally," Aro offered. "But it was a most enjoyable experience and you are highly endearing."

It was only then, with his adrenaline draining and the threat of a dreadful death no longer looming that Peter noticed his position. How it might look to a passer-by.

"You look like a Halloween rapist."

Aro frowned, only Peter could ruin a mood so thoroughly. "We look like lovers, unable to resist our true desires."

Peter snorted, "I'm still sticking with my original statement."

"Samhain isn't for another season."

"That's not really my point," Peter shot back. Wondering why the vampire stayed where he was. Using him as a cushion. It was awkward. But not enough to tempt Peter into asking about it. Questions got him into trouble and he wasn't exactly home free.

"You want me to say it? Fine, you win." Peter quickly conceded. "Can I go home now? I'm cold, tired and bruised in places that should never be bruised."

"I can help with that."

Peter swallowed a squeak. "Can you?"

Aro was much too close. "If you will permit me?"

This was it, the opportunity to end everything. To draw a line in the sand and be completely clear. To test if his consent would be respected. Peter considered it and then relaxed. He'd pushed and pulled, prodded and poked, trying to bring out a monster. Instead, Aro continued to surprise him at every turn. The vampire overlord was consistent and only strayed when truly challenged.   
  
They had just aired out a whole bunch of personal and professional shit. 

Peter swallowed. Unable to ignore how well they fit together. How good it was starting to feel-

"Your pulse is rising," Aro mused. "But not in distress."

"Shut up! I'm thinking." Peter didn't move, sprawled out beneath his mortal enemy. Or was it his ex mortal enemy now?

Attraction wasn't a problem. It had never been a problem. But getting hunted and having a date at the same time should not have worked. It should not have been somewhat therapeutic. Or ever so slightly exciting. Having a powerful vampire sitting above him like a God should not be arousing. But it was. 

"I'm so fucking damaged. I should come with a warning sign." Peter tried to cover his face. Mortified. Where was a liquor store when he needed it?

Aro chuckled, catching Peter's hands in his own. Careful not to aggravate the scratch he had given. The vampire spoke without mockery or judgement. "In all my years upon this earth, I have never found someone as beautiful as you are."

Peter was pretty sure that he looked like shit. 

As if reading Peter's pessimistic thoughts Aro clarified "mind, body and soul."

Peter almost laughed but he couldn't. Someone was sitting on him. That and there was something open and honest there and he wanted to believe it. To give himself a break. Maybe in time, it would get easier. But as it was the information was overwhelming. Here was another person, patiently plucking at his heart. Willing to do the work and wait for whatever he could give.

"I don't know what I'm doing."

Aro hummed in a clever, knowing kind of way. "Then it is unfamiliar territory for us both."

Together they were taking a chance. 

The past, present and even the future didn't matter. It didn't need to. Peter reached up and grabbed at Aro's ridiculous cape. He pulled and smiled as Aro surrendered himself to the motion. In those watchful red eyes was only understanding, patience and desire. 

Peter laughed, shaking his head. It was surreal. So far from normal. Sure his feelings were conflicted, complicated and courting danger and disaster. Everything that comes after. None of that was new. But feeling stupidly safe and wanted well... That was something worth exploring. Something he wanted for himself. So Peter decided to complicate the shit out of absolutely everything. His life was never going to be normal but it didn't mean that it couldn't be good. 

"How did you put it before?"

Enchanted in the moment Aro didn't blink, didn't breathe. "That we were lovers, unable to resist our true desires."

"No." With one final filthy grin, Peter settled against the grass and fancy flowers. Dragging Aro Volturi well and truly along for the ride.

"To the victor go the spoils."


End file.
